Not Lost
by smolder
Summary: It was a slow process to understand what the inhabitants of this place (the faeries with their mind magic and flying dust - such things of fantasy in their world but horribly real here) have done to his son. Turning him into a weapon to use against what they saw as an incursion.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Peter Pan belongs to J.M. Barrie and Disney (I note both because honestly it is a mash up of both that I picture in my brain when I do this *laughs*)  
Prompt: _Captain Hook has good reason for his actions on Neverland. Or, at least, he thinks he does. Before they arrived on Neverland, Peter was Hook's son and cabin boy, the light of Hook's life ever since the unfortunate death of Peter's mother. The ship washed up in Neverland by accident, and Peter's memory was wiped by the fairies, who saw in him the perfect weapon against this sudden incursion of pirates. Hook was horrified by what had become of his child, and thus became all the more determined to stay in Neverland and try and get his son back, making the fairies push Peter all the harder to defeat Hook and banish the pirates from Neverland. By the time the Darlings arrive, Hook has come to the conclusion that the fairies have hollowed his son out entirely and the kindest thing to do is to kill him and thus free him to move on. Wendy finds out all of this while she's Hook's prisoner, thinks it very silly of both of them, and sets about fixing the whole misunderstanding._

* * *

He ends up yelling the whole terrible business at the girl, pacing back and forth (his peg leg clinking upon the boards of his ship) as she stands right in front of him with her hands securely tied behind her back, not a hint of fear (or bad posture). Tells her much more than he should – she is only a kidnapee after all, just bait (_and just a child, or young woman anyway, part of his mind notes. She shouldn't be hearing much of these things_). But, it is hard for him to care; he is angry - so angry...and terribly tired, truly just wanting this all to be _over_ already.

He tells her about the old days, of living wildly for years upon the sea as a trader; building a crew and making a name for himself. How one day while gathering basic supplies in a port town for his men, he had suddenly met the woman who would become his dear wife. He had fallen hard then, so very suddenly for that young lass he would haggle prices for wares with every few seasons. Over time, would have done _anything_ for his Jenna, given up _everything_ for a life with her in it – his very ship even, the dear vessel where he had learned his trade and made his mark in the world.

But Jenna had only smiled, shaken her head at those sorts of words and grabbed a bag, already packed, ready to travel with him. She was a practical one and as soon as she had begun to fall for the Captain of a ship she had prepared to leave the land she had always known, ready to learn a new way of being, upon the open water by his side.

And she took to it quickly, had sea legs so fast that much of his crew were impressed – indeed they all grew to love her. For she was happy to help load and unload the ship at dock, quick to laugh at a bawdy joke, fierce in a fight, and always there to listen when they wanted a sympathetic ear.

When she became pregnant, it was as if the whole crew was celebrating the impending birth. So, joyful, careful, and expectant of this little life.

He shouldn't have been so caught up in the feeling, should have _known_ something was going to go wrong.

They had wanted to be on land and have a proper midwife attend her for her birthing but she had gone into labor earlier than expected and they were still much too far out.

He had almost thought they were safe though when, with a mighty push, the boat's medic had pulled the baby free. But turning from his fluid covered newborn, he had looked to Jenna – smiling widely with stunned joy and pride – only to have the expression slide from him when he saw how badly off she was.

They shared this moment though, as a family, before she died. And he will _always_ hold it dear. They had sat curled together on their bed – all three of them, the babe held close (_even as he had to hold her arms around him, to support, as she weakened_). They spoke in hushed tones as if anything louder would make everything break. They named their precious boy. They smiled, so sadly he thinks part of him died as well in that moment, as they said I love you for the final time.

They _did not_ say goodbye. It would have hurt too much to speak those words, both could see what was coming, could look upon the others' face and read what they weren't saying.

When she slips away, right there in his arms, it hurts – oh, it _hurts_. More than anything he has ever felt before - but he is not lost (_he isn't, he isn't, he isn't_), because he has Peter.

Peter who cries right at that moment, reminding him of the life still present, the life that needs him to survive right now.

And if he had pride in nothing else in his life, he would take pride in the fact that he was good father to his son. His sorrow over Jenna's passing, does not cloud his joy in being a parent.

Peter grows up a bright, happy, curious, boy. He loves the sea (pouts when they get near land), is excited when dolphins pass their ship, is always quick to help the other crew members - who he viewed as his Uncles - and never afraid to go to his father with difficulties.

When Peter is older he very officially gives him the ranking of Cabin Boy. Wide eyed, solemn, and excited - the slender, brown haired boy accepts, before breaking such fanciness, dashing forward and hugging his Da around the middle. (To the cheers and laughter of the crew.)

Again, he should have remembered all of the old tales sailors would tell of how harsh a mistress the sea was. Should have expected that, when he was again so content, his life would come unraveled.

But, then again, how could anyone of predicted crashing in such a place as _Neverland_?

The storm leading up to it is a terrible thing: harsh wind that kicks up the waves and threaten to flood the ship, sharp lightning with the thunder that almost deafens, and driving hard rain that almost cuts at the skin.

Peter was supposed to stay within the inner rooms, he was still a boy - and smaller than the rest of the crew - and they feared a wave taking him overboard. And when, trying to hold the wheel steady, in a flash of lightning the illuminates the entire deck, he sees his son out in this...his heart almost stops.

But then the strange things started, the twirling colors, and bending lights. And suddenly - suddenly - they are no longer in a storm but a body of water perfectly calm, there is even bright sunlight illuminating the sky.

Which would be a good thing _except_ for the fact that the ship is head straight for a rocky cove without room to turn away. He tries his best though - attempts to twist towards the sandier side at least.

And that is all he remembers until he blacks out.

There is such fear when his First Mate, shakes him awake - because his first words are a question. And no one knows the answer.

Peter is _missing_.

The ship is easy to repair, there is only small superficial damage to it since he managed to steer it into the beach but he cannot care about this - why should any of it matter when Jenna is dead and Peter is gone.

So, when he does see his son again, it is first joy that infuses him (_despite the confusion over the flying and the small winged woman accompanying him)_. Because Peter isn't dead, he hasn't lost him _too_.

But then...then his boy attacks him. Brandishing a sword, using moves that he taught him - and even as he parries and tries to call out to his dear child, there is no recognition on his face.

It was a slow process to understand what the inhabitants of this place (_the faeries with their mind magic and flying dust - such things of fantasy in their world but horribly real here_) have done to his son. Turning him into a weapon to use against what they saw as an incursion.

And every time Peter attacks him, he sadly defends and attempts to catch him. Wants dearly to have his son back. He does not think he truly accepts, what the reality is, until the day Peter cuts off his hand and feeds it to a crocodile.

And then laughs, crowing delightedly, at his pain. Finds it _so very_ funny.

He becomes harsher after that; takes a new name and no longer solely defend but _attacks_. Because this is _not_ his son – and so his goals are different now, no longer will he try to get him back.

No, because it would not be Peter by his side, even if he did, but a grinning trickster Changeling child. Truly, it would be kinder to destroy this monstrosity of the faeries. This thing that only held his son's face.

Perhaps then – at least – his soul would be free to be with Jenna's.

The girl had been silent during his entire telling, tears falling (_unable to be whipped away given her hands tied behind her back_) as it progressed. "You've really made a mess of things, haven't you?" she asks, with a tilt of her head, once he has wound down, a sigh to her tone.

"Have you listened to a word I've said," he growls out but it has considerably less bite than he would want it to. The rant has left him tired and he feels like a sad old man before her instead of the fearsome Captain Hook.

"Yes," she responds, not at all intimidated, "I have, and I think you are both being very silly. Your plans have been rather horrible as well. I mean – really, now – you are nearly as bad as the faeries, attacking to kill without all of the facts in place," she shakes her head at this, sighing. "Don't worry though, Peter will come to the ship when he is to rescue me later and we will set things to rights." Her tone of voice clearly states she just _knows_ that she will have to be the one to do all of the setting to rights.

And this girl standing before him in her sensible blue nightgown, and bow in her hair, is all calm confidence and steady pride (_it is almost intimidating, actually when he feels so very ruffled_). It makes his doubt waiver.

"Why do you think he will listen? It never worked before," it is almost a whisper, he is a grown man (_impossibly, lifetimes upon lifetimes old by now_) but feels no shame that he is all but pleading with her. He is far past that at this point.

And Wendy Darling smiles at him sadly, "Captain Hook," she tells him gently, "Peter used to listen outside my window while I read my brothers stories. He brought me to Neverland because he wanted a _mother_. I rather believe, it is a good bet, there is still that little boy within him that wishes for his father too. Quite a bit more, I would think. You were so very close."

He doesn't want to hope - it feels like a dangerous thing. But she seems so very sure, that part of him begins to believe that, maybe not _all_ is lost in this accursed land.


End file.
